


If Every Porkchop Were Perfect...

by Birdfluff



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdfluff/pseuds/Birdfluff
Summary: Elliot Witt considered himself to be legendary, charming, gorgeous, he could pick up dates easier than gathering chickens, but he was never good at dating. He hoped to make an exception for Makoa Gibraltar.





	If Every Porkchop Were Perfect...

Elliot wasn’t expecting Makoa to actually agree to his dinner date offer while on the clock. It was a mindless flirtation. Okay, it wasn’t that mindless. Elliot wanted this to happen but he was expecting to stumble through the line, but he didn’t… somehow. 

Makoa was a beaming ray of sunshine that it was psychically hard to look at him sometimes. His smile could literally light up a room and knock Elliot flat on his ass. 

“Makoa is very sweet, very considerate and big-- tall,” Elliot corrected himself as he ran a rag over his bar. “I meant tall. I mean, the armor probably made him that big. I mean, not that tha--that mattered. If this goes well, maybe we can spoon. I’ve never been the little spoon… I’ve never _been_ a spoon. I’m probably a fork…”

Elliot’s decoy snapped his digital fingers that surged him out of his trance. “Alright, alright. See? I’m cleaning it-- hey, why aren’t you doing anything?”

The decoy quickly returned to his original task of waxing the floor. Elliot decided not to open his bar tonight to the full public. This was private and he did not want any customers coming in and screwing it up for him, because he could do that on his own perfectly fine. He didn’t have faith in himself; he wasn’t going to fake that. Something about Makoa made him feel like he should be a hundred percent honest all the time… not that he was a constant liar. Mirage always told the truth even when he shouldn’t, but with Makoa, it was like he shouldn’t pretend to be… Elliot’s train of thought flopped off its rails as he scrubbed that one spot on the counter.

“I’m thinking too hard about this, aren’t I?”

This other decoy that was filing the liquor shelves looked at him and solemnly nodded.

Elliot glared back. “As if you know better! You’re me!”

A knock came at the front door. Vaulting over the bar, Elliot quickly looked himself over. His clothes were nice-- if not kind of wrinkled. He didn’t have time to iron but that’s fine. His hair? On fleek, as the kids say. His eyeliner was only slightly off, but he hoped he was the only one who noticed. Wait, was his fly down? Yes-- wait, no, ye-- That’s a no. 

“We’re good. I’m good. It’s good. I’m not good. Suck it up.” He inhaled and approached the door. Just be yourself, he reminded, whatever that means. As he unlocked and opened the door, he leaned on the frame and smiled charmingly, flipping his hair back. “Heyyy, Makoooooooo….aaaaaa…..aa...” 

His jaw dropped at the sight of Gibraltar. What he was wearing was so simple and semi-formal for a bar date, but, dear lord, he made a white button up shirt, a blazer, and black slacks look amazing. What sold it was that his hair was down and he had the most beautiful glistening hair that Elliot had ever seen. His eyes were practically sparkling in the sunset when Makoa smiled at him. Mirage couldn’t breathe. Was Gibraltar talking to him? His mouth was moving but Elliot couldn’t hear or see anything.

“Hoooollly crap, you’re hot.”

Makoa tilted his head, leaning forward, “Did you say something, Elliot?”

“I said you’re very esqu--esgue-esc-ex-zzzsswwis… Good! You look good, come in. How are you? How’s the um… life and...uh? Yeah, uh, welcome! Welcome, welcome. I got a table! Ready for us, over there by the window.”

A decoy digitized in front of the booth and bowed with a hand gesturing to the table with a flourish. It was already garnished with plates of hot wings, pork chops, peeled shrimp, and spinach and artichoke dip with a side of garlic bread and an assortment of alcohol.

Mirage coughed into his fist. “I-I-I forgot to ask you what you like and I was too busy to, uh contact… you… So I kind of uh, got together some of my best sellers. I have no idea if you’ve got any allergies or anything so so so I uh made them.” He counted on his fingers, “gluten free, dairy free, there’s no gmos-- or is it msg? Mogs? Gms? Anyway, it’s organic and vegan-- kind of. If you’re allergic to seafood, I’ll eat it. I didn’t make the hot wings too hot, that’s why the sauce is there if you’re into that-- or mild, I got mild too. Sweet and sour. Vinegar. Uh, I got normal white wine, rum, mead, I even got like… just root beer, in case you don’t drink-- or water. I got sparkling water. It’s strawberry flavored. That’s non alcoholic too.”

Gibraltar raised his brows. “Wow... You went all out for me?”

His heart fluttered. “Of course! I mean, psh, this is me we’re talking about. I-I like making people special who I fee-- making special me to--... You’re special, Makoa. I want you to feel… like you’re that.”

“Oh...” Makoa echoed softly, blinking.

He said too much. He was too forward. Elliot couldn’t back away now, they haven’t even sat down yet. He cleared his throat, “Let’s uh, sit and eat and forget I said anything.”

Thankfully, over the course of the meal, the conversation seemed to be lively from Mirage’s perspective, but then again everything about Gibraltar was lively and full of positive energy that Elliot could bathe in. His voice was so singsongy. How Makoa used his hands to emphasize his words in such an enthusiastic way was engrossing. Elliot thought about how he had never seen his hands outside of his suit. They looked so smooth but calloused, which made sense in his drunken state. Alcohol seemed to have no effect on him while Mirage was down a few glasses and couldn’t stop giggling. His elbows rested on the tabletop, his hands cupping his face as he stared idly at Gibraltar with a goofy grin on his face.

Makoa must have said something to him because he was smiling with expectation in his eyes. Mirage opened his mouth but all that came out of what could only be described as audible key smashing. Elliot blinked at the sound of his voice and quickly reconciled by downing more alcohol. He hissed when the liquid burned his throat. “I’m okay...”

“I think you oughta get some water, instead.”

“Y-yeah, that’s a good idea.” He forgot about the suggestion immediately. “Y-yyyou like the food? I didn’t over--undercook, did I?”

“Not at all. All of this was scrumptious, Elliot. You should be proud of yourself!”

“I’m scrumptious.”

Gibraltar stared at him. “Did you just call yourself…?”

It took a pregnant pause for Mirage to figure out what he said. He covered his face. “That… meant to stay in my head-- oh god, I just realized how terrible idea it was to p--pa pe… have alcohol.”

“I thought they were a great addition! Do you make these yourself too? The drinks?”

“Of course, man. I mean… I buy stocks of them but I caaan make alcohol-- s’why they’re in fancy cups and swirl straws.”

“Well, the rum is particularly delicious.”

His eyes lit up. “You serious?”

“Absolutely! I enjoyed the variety. You are an excellent cook. Would I be too forward to ask if we could do this again?”

The decoys behind the bar, who were watching with keen interest, punched the air and highfived each other.

“Abso--sob, absorb--apers--- Yes--I mean no! I mean, we can totally do this again. Yes. That’s what I’m saying out of my mouth right now. I agree.”

“Here, brother, try to sober up.” Makoa handed him his water that Elliot took with an absurd amount of caution.

“Indirect kiss?” Realizing what he said, Mirage slammed his forward into the table and stayed there. “I could die from the amount of cursed shit I have utter in my life-- somehow, that was the worst and said it in front of you.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” 

“Only my pride… and dignity… which I had little of anyway. God, I’m an embarrassment.” He spilled some of his water onto his shirt as he sipped it. “Dammit...”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up while you’ve got Gibraltar here. I found my time with you to be the opposite of embarrassing. In fact, this made my whole day. I want to thank you, Elliot. You really did make me feel special.”

“Christ, I could like… brush my teeth with that--” He quickly stopped himself from saying another P word by taking another swig to give him time to think. “-- radiance.”

“I actually use Colgate.”

“Oh my god, you’re so cute! How are you like this? Most people would have walked out on me by now! Use the bathroom as an excuse or just leave! How are you that--?” Mirage gestured in his direction. “That! I don’t even get this drunk on dates! How are you so comfy to be around, man? Man, I… I don’t get it. I-I swear, Makoa, if you say it’s because you’re not most people-- I swear, I will punch you in the mouth with my mouth.”

Gibraltar laughed, but it wasn’t one full of pity or second-hand embarrassment. It was genuine and hearty and was flavored with deep affection that Mirage felt like he was soaring.

“Ask me again when you're sober. I would hate to ruin this evening if we were both misreading the situation.”

“You... you are so fucking considerate, it hurts. What if I can’t wait?”

“Hmm… Your puppy face is making it real hard for me, so alright.” Makoa shifted and rose from the booth, which Elliot followed in suit, except it was more of a shove to make himself stand up.

His movements were swift but powerful. His soft lips landed gingerly on his cheek. Instantaneously, Mirage melted in a drunken heap at the touch that Gibraltar had to catch him before his head hit the table corner.

Elliot’s body stiffened. He blinked rapidly. “Holy-- I think I just saw heaven. Wow, I am sober. My eyes could not be more clearer. Uh, hi, did-did it hurt?”

Makoa gave him an unimpressed look. “... When I fell from heaven?”

“Psshh, no, I wasn’t going to say something THAT corny. I was gonna say did it hurt wheennnn youuu…..ffffffff… Look, I can’t think straight, I’m pansexual and you’re really cute, I seriously mean that. You really wouldn’t mind going out with me again? I’m not asking that because I’m doubting I’m just… I’m going to be brutally honest, I am terrible with dates. Going on dates, sometimes I don’t even make it to that point.”

Gibraltar took him by the shoulders. “Elliot, I’m going to give you a second chance to sell yourself to me. What you did right there was enough to make anyone agree with you and leave, that’s not what you want, correct? Tell me what makes you dateable.”

For once, Mirage’s mind blanked. “I--uhhhhh, well… I like to think I’m fun to-- no, I know I’m fun to be around. I like to take it easy, I know I’ve got an easy personality, unless you don’t want to. I’m flexible. Charming, handsome, stunning with a gun-- I’m a great cook! And barista, as you already know. How were the pork chops by the way? Of course, they were. They were my mom’s recipe and she makes the best pork chops-- yoouuu just want me to talk, don’t you?”

“That was the plan. You always look at ease when you talk about yourself, so I figured it was worth a try. How do you feel?”

“... Better, I guess? Does that make me dateable?”

“You know what I admire about you, Elliot?”

“Wh-what?”

“Your confidence. Even if I have to pull it out of you, you are stunning when you’re confident. That’s why I took up your offer.”

“S-so… I should be more confident?”

“You already got that. Hell, you already proved it to me, but I wanted this to help you prove to yourself that you are worth another date.”

Mirage laughed a little, loosening his stress in his neck. “Y-you know, I can tell we’re gonna have some really relaxing dates-- maybe we can Netflix and Chill, sometime.”

“Oh, you know what that means?”

“Iiii do not, actually. I just thought it was a date idea.”

“When I asked Ajay, she just laughed and told me not to worry about it. It must have some other meaning?”

Mirage shrugged, “Honestly, it’s so hard to keep up with the kids these days. I mean, I got Netflix. I can chill-- I don’t see anything wrong with that. Does that sound like a good idea to you?”

“Watching a movie? Sure.”

“Alright! Saturday sound good? At eight? I can uh, I can pick you up. If you want.”

“I’d like that, Elliot, but I’d like to finish this date first.”

“O-oh? What did you have in mind...?”

Mirage didn’t respond right away to Gibraltar kissing him and holding him with one hand on his face while the other was pressed onto his lower back. He stood there uselessly as his brain rebooted and recalculated at a snail’s pace. Finally, Elliot retaliated and lifted himself up with his toes as he returned the kiss. His mom always told him that kissing on the first date was never a good thing to do and he lived by that, but for Makoa he was absolutely willing to make that exception.


End file.
